Cooking With Sanzo
by Asidian
Summary: Sanzo and Hakkai... host a cooking show?!? Today's recipe: chocolate cake. Sort of. Warnings: language.


Author's Notes: This story begs the question: "What the _hell_ were you thinking?" And I don't know. Sorry. It seemed like a good idea at the time. –nervous grin- I definitely did cut it shorter than I'd planned, though, cause I wasn't sure where I was going with it.

Questions, comments- hell, even flames- greatly appreciated. At least it means someone took the time to read it.

Oh, yeah... and they aren't mine. –grin-

* * *

Cooking With Sanzo

* * *

"Good afternoon, everyone!" came a pleasant voice over the loudspeaker, entirely welcoming. The audience, in accordance to the flashing sign that read "applause now", clapped their hands.

Behind a long, low table on top of a stage, a man sat perched on a stool. His one visible eye was closed as he smiled agreeably, usual Chinese-style shirt exchanged for a green apron. Spread before him on the table, more kitchen utensils than had any right to exist gleamed immaculately. Bowls of every imaginable shape were arranged in a row, according to volume. A garlic press lay half-open near a pair of chopsticks.

Seemingly nonplussed by the sheer amount of cooking equipment, the man smiled even more widely.

"Glad to have you all with us," he assured the gathered crowd. "And welcome to 'Cooking with Sanzo'." When two members of the audience- a boy with strangely-shaped headband and a man with long red hair- fell to the floor laughing, the man in the apron admirably pressed onward. "I'm your co-host, Cho Hakkai, and I'll be accompanying Sanzo-san in the kitchen today, so that the censors can enjoy the show without having to worry."

Folding his hands neatly in front of himself, the co-host continued. "Due to the mishap on last week's program, some of our equipment is still being repaired. And so, instead of the planned recipes, today Sanzo-san will be making chocolate cake."

Hakkai opened his mouth to continue, moments from introducing the star of the show, when a madly waving hand from the audience caught his attention. "Um, yes... Do you have a question, miss?"

"Yes!" cried the girl in question, as soon as she was called on, her slit-pupiled eyes wide with excitement. "Do we get to eat the cake!"

"Lilin!" a young man with reddish hair scolded from the seat next to her. "Sanzo is our _enemy_!"

Hakkai sweatdropped, smile a little strained, but placating. "Yes," he assured her, "When the show is over, Sanzo-san serves the dishes for the members of the audience." He paused a moment, turning his attention back to the show. "So if you'll allow me..."

A desperate movement caught the corner of his eye: a different hand. "Yes... is there another question?"

"Hey, Hakkai?" asked the boy with the diadem, in response to being acknowledged. "I get dibs on the cake, right? Cause we're fighting them and all?"

The man in the apron sweatdropped. "So if you'll allow me," he continued, ignoring the rather loud cry of protest. "I'll introduce the show's host. Everyone, please give a warm welcome to Chef Sanzo."

Cued by the words, a door opened behind the stage, revealing another man. Blonde hair tumbled into Sanzo's face over droopy violet eyes, all under a massive white French chef's hat. The apron that was tied into a neat bow behind his back was patterned with a sutra print. And he looked fit to kill.

In the audience, a water demon and a monkey boy fell to the ground, howling laughter.

Hakkai climbed down gracefully from his stool, pleasant smile remaining unchanged. "Ah, Sanzo-san... Why don't you tell your fans the plans for today's recipe?"

The monk-turned-chef shot his co-host a look that could have killed a lesser man. "Why don't we make the fucking cake so we can leave?"

"Now, now. We were supposed to give the censors an _easier_ time today," Hakkai chided gently, moving to stand near the cooking equipment. "But since you suggested it, we might as well get started."

"Fine," Sanzo agreed darkly, stalking to the refrigerator. Yanking the door open, he pulled out a gallon of milk, a carton of eggs, a bottle of chocolate syrup, and a packet of sprinkles.

"Now!" Hakkai was telling the audience. "As all of you know, Sanzo-san uses recipes that are distinctly his own, so even something like chocolate cake is sure to be a treat!"

He was cut off abruptly when Sanzo dumped half a bag of flour into a mixing bowl. Followed by nearly as much milk. And five eggs.

"Oh, my. It seems Sanzo-san has plans for a rather... _large_ cake."

* * *

Twenty minutes and one exploded ball of milk and flour later...

* * *

"Ah, it seems that the producers are signaling for us to end the show," Hakkai called cheerfully, neatly plucking the meat knife from Sanzo's chocolate-covered hands in an attempt to stop any further damage. "And so I regret to say that that's all the time we have on today's show."

Chocolate goo dripped from the ceiling and onto the no-longer-immaculate cooking equipment.

Hakkai hesitated, smile fading briefly as he regarded the mess behind him. Just to be sure, he moved the butter knife away from Sanzo's reach, as well. "Join us next week for Sanzo-san's tasty-" he wavered, wondering if the oven would be clean in time. "-salad recipe! Thanks for coming, everyone!"

Needless to say, Goku and Lilin fought over what was left of the cake, anyway.

-owari-


End file.
